


a work in progress

by izzey



Series: raira blues [1]
Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Gen, Raira Au, this is basically rated m for language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-17
Updated: 2015-05-17
Packaged: 2018-03-30 21:57:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3953281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/izzey/pseuds/izzey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“As a favor for my best friend, my brother from another mother, my broseph –“<br/>“Shut up or I’m leaving right now.” Grunted Shizuo through a mouthful of crumbs.<br/>“—I went ahead and looked at the wikiHow page on how to bleach hair and it looks trustworthy. I had to take time away from my precious Celty to do so, so you owe me.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	a work in progress

**Author's Note:**

> this is the first fic i've ever written. please show mercy. i was thinking about how shizuo had brown hair like kasuka's until he bleached it to make a name for himself and this happened.

New year, new school, new me, huh.  


15 year old Shizuo Heiwajima stood at the door of his “beloved childhood friend” Shinra Kishitani, as he liked to put it. Shinra was that kid, the one that watched one too many alien movies as a kid, who saw a porn video on accident at age seven and wouldn’t shut up about it, who threw up in play productions, and who’d fake injuries to get out of playing dodgeball in gym all rolled up into one annoying awkward teenager. He had it all, from the wild bedhead from running late to school to the thick glasses that he had to get replaced every few weeks due to his clumsiness.  


Shizuo didn’t have too much to him, or so he thought. He had a nice childhood and a knack for sweets, milk, rap music and fighting movies, not to mention an alarmingly short temper. He was awkward, more awkward than your usual teenage boy. He had been alienated from a young age, ever since he threw a desk at a kid in his reading class for reading too slow. He had been alone growing up due to his inhuman strength save for his younger brother Kasuka and Shinra. Ever since Kasuka got scouted by some talent agency, it had really just been Shinra since his years at Raira started. He was grateful to Shinra for sticking around, but he’d never tell the loser that.  


Shizuo had never been given a chance to stand out. By this time, most kids would have had their first violin recital, some medals from a track meet, something to pride themselves on. Every time Shizuo brought himself to do something, all he would end up hearing is the pounding of the blood in his ears, a crack or two of his bones, and something smashing, breaking, or shattering in his near vicinity instead of a roaring applause from an audience or a pat on the back from his friends’ parents. It was too late for that now. He was ready to make a name for himself and he was ready for something different after being alone for so long. He had spent long hours looking at himself in the mirror, staring at sandy brown hair paired with golden eyes that burned right though his reflection, straining himself to find something- anything – outside of his strength that made him different from all the other boys his age.  


When he confided in Shinra about his predicament over a platter at the local Russian sushi joint, his response startled him.  


“Why don’t you just bleach your hair?”  


Shizuo was taken aback not by the idea, but by the fact that Shinra had said something smart for once that didn’t involve any sarcastic remarks nor nearly broken bones.  


“Shinra, I think this is the first time you haven’t said something in the past month that hasn’t made me want to hurt you.”  


“Ah, so we’re making progress I see!” Shinra laughed. “I’m glad to hear there’s more than two brain cells rubbing in that pea sized brain of yours – “  


“Okay. I take it back,” Shizuo said after punching Shinra square in the face.  


“Hah, almost ten years and that punch still hurts, Shizuo,” Shinra chuckled nervously while rubbing at his cheek. “How about we meet next week? We’ll do it early, and before school starts so you can decide whether or not you like it. Does that sound good?” Shizuo nodded curtly as he left Shinra alone to his California roll plate with a hint of (dare he say?) excitement for what was about to come.  


Shizuo tugged at the straight brown locks by his ear while he checked the time. It was hot out and his white t-shirt was starting to stick to his chest.This could be good, right? It’s not like anyone will tell me anything, they’re too scared I’ll kick their asses. Yeah, this is good. This better be worth it, I spent half my paycheck on this crap. In his hands he clutched a plastic bag holding 3% peroxide bleach, a fine toothed comb, some hair clips, a spray bottle, some cotton balls and a towel. He had been waiting for about ten minutes when he started to get annoyed. "What could this asshat possibly be doing, holy hell. It’s almost noon and we were supposed to do this early, just like we planned," Shizuo grumbled to himself. 

One knock. No answer.Damn it Shinra, your ass better come through.  Two knocks and some jams of the doorbell. Still no answer. Smashing the doorbell until the pad of his pointer finger bled and nearly ramming the door down while screaming, “Shinra, you fucker!” got him an answer.

  


“Shizuo, did you break the door down again?” called a squeaky voice from inside, “I told you not to come until after one, it’s date morning, and you knew that!”  


“Fuck you Shinra, you knew about this! We made the plans weeks ago, don’t give me this ‘date morning crap,” barked Shizuo. He marched into the living room where Shinra was seated with his roommate, the headless rider of Ikebukuro, alias Celty Sturluson. Her trademark cat helmet was off and wisps of smoke burst frantically from where her head should be, still in her black jumpsuit. She was seated on the couch clutching a Wii remote, flailing it wildly in an attempt to serve a tennis ball in Wii Sports. The coffee tabled had bags of chips, mugs of hot tea and half drunken sodas scattered all over it.  


“Celty, be careful, he’s gonna pounce—“ Shinra started until Shizuo lifted him off the ground by his collar and proceeded to back him into a wall, clutching his collar tighter till he gasped for breath.  


“Shinra! My best friend, pal, amigo,” Shizuo coaxed with a terrifyingly calm tone as his eyes and bored into his. “Do you remember the agreement we made last week? You know, the one where you’d be a pal and help me do this? Huh?” Shizuo’s eyes widened as he pushed Shinra further into the wall.  


“Shizuo,” he coughed, “can you remind me why it has to be me that does this?” Shizuo put him down slowly so he could regain his balance, not noticing that Celty had been tugging at his back in an attempt to get him off of Shinra.  


“One, because you said you would. Two, because I’d probably kill the guy that messes my hair up and I have less of a problem if it’s you I’m killing,” threatened Shizuo.  


“There’s the Shizuo we know and love,” grumbled Shinra as he staggered to the Wii to disconnect it. He shouted across the room, “Celty, do you have a job today?” She fumbled for her phone and began to type at a mile per minute, holding up the screen when she was done.  


“Yeah. Why?”  


“I forgot that it was guys day out today,” stuttered Shinra, “and Shizuo got super upset that I forgot about it, as you could tell,” which earned him a smack in the back of the head from both Celty and Shizuo before she typed a response.  


“I’ll go ahead and head out. Please don’t die.”  


Shinra gave her a chaste hug as she hurried out the door, mounted her sleek black bike and sped off with an ear splitting whinny down the wall of the building and into the Ikebukuro streets.  


“I presume you brought—“he darted his head both ways, “—the stuff, right?”  


Shizuo chuckled while he went to pick up the plastic bag of hair products that he dropped prior to pinning Shinra against the wall. “Calm down Shinra, it’s just hair stuff, not drugs or anything.” He pressed the bag into his hands before heading to Shinra’s pantry in the kitchen to raid his freshly baked cookie supply he kept in a jar. Shizuo snatched two chocolate chip cookies from the bottom of the jar and shoved one into his mouth.  


“Alrighty then!” Shinra clapped his hands together in enthusiasm. “You can change in the bathroom or just take your shirt off, I don’t mind.” Shizuo peeled his shirt off and tossed it onto the couch from the kitchen. ”O-kay!” chirped Shinra. “As a favor for my best friend, my brother from another mother, my broseph –“  


“Shut up or I’m leaving right now.” Grunted Shizuo through a mouthful of crumbs.  


“—I went ahead and looked at the wikiHow page on how to bleach hair and it looks trustworthy. I had to take time away from my precious Celty to do so, so you owe me.”  


Shizuo gulped the rest of the dry cookie down waved his hand absentmindedly at Shinra.  


“Yeah, well we’ll get there when we get there. Here, I’m gonna rinse my hair off in the sink and you go get some gloves or something,” called Shizuo. “I don’t want your hands burning off ‘cause of the bleach. I think I’d feel bad.” He went into the bathroom and started the sink. He tested the water on his hand before sticking his head under the faucet, the skin on the back of his neck prickling while the cold water dampened his hair. He glanced behind him before snatching some of Shinra’s shampoo and conditioner from his shower. Eh, he wouldn’t notice. He lathered the shampoo into his hair thoroughly then rinsed it out, leaving no spot dry on his scalp. He snatched a towel off a drying rack and rubbed it against his hair haphazardly in an attempt to dry off the excess water. When he finished, he went back into the living room to meet Shinra with his gloves ready to go. He had dragged a chair from the kitchen into the living room so Shizuo could sit. Shizuo propped himself onto the chair. He glanced back warily at Shinra.  


“I’m trusting you here, Shinra,” he warned. “You’re a dead man if you mess any of this up.”  


“I don’t doubt it,” retorted Shinra as he snapped the gloves on the back of his hand. “Here, I gotta start by sanctioning your hair off. Did you bring a brush with you? I sure hope so, ‘cause it’s a rat’s nest back here, wow,” he jested.  


“You ass,” huffed Shizuo. “Yeah, I think I brought a comb in the bag I handed you.” Shinra found the comb and began brushing out the tangles in Shizuo’s hair.  


“Damn Shinra, I admit it may be a mess back there but chill out with the comb. I’d very much like to keep my hair intact, thank you very much,” whined Shizuo.  


“Hey, beggars can’t be choosers,” retorted Shinra. “If you didn’t want this, you could have gone and gotten it done instead of bugging me on date morning.”  


“Ugh, every morning is date morning for you, dumbass, you live with her for God’s sake,” grumbled Shizuo.  


“I!” Yank. “Can’t!” Yank. “Hear!” Yank. “You!” Yank. “Shizuo!” Shinra tore through Shizuo’s healthy locks with the comb to accentuate each word. Shizuo yelped in pain after each one.  


“Okay okay, geez! I’ll shut up and let you do you thing,” whimpered Shizuo in defeat. He managed to keep his mouth shut (thanks to the extra cookie he snagged from the pantry) and let Shinra do his thing. After Shinra got the knots and tangles out, he started to clip his hair up.  


“Agh, why the hell’s this taking so long?” complained Shizuo. “I wanna get this over with, damn it. I have things to do.”  


“Psh, like what?” taunted Shinra. “Play League of Legends? Blog? Go to the gym?”  


“Ah, bite me Shinra.” So what if he spent a lot of time on the computer? It compensated for his lack of a social life. At his apartment his parents had given him, he had every console you could dream of with loads of games, but all he chose to play was Street Fighter, Soul Caliber, and Tekken, of course. As for the gym, he had to try his best to stay in shape if he were going to crush that fucking germ whose name he couldn’t, shouldn’t, and wouldn’t mention.  


He let his anger simmer while Shinra finished off sanctioning the rest of his hair, then Shizuo heard a giggle.  


“The hell are you laughing at?”  


“You look pretty dumb, man,” snickered Shinra. “Here, look at yourself,” Shinra handed him a small mirror to vies his reflection. Shizuo couldn’t help but stifle a laugh. He was right, his brown hair pulled back made him look like a delinquent. The lack of hair exposed Shizuo’s forehead, which he always felt was way too big for his age.  


“Hey, will you do me another favor?”  


“Fine, but only for my bosom bud, my hermano, my –“  


“Get some music up in here, would ya?” interjected Shizuo. “This silence is awful.”  


Shinra surprisingly complied with ease. “The least I can do for my prisoner for the afternoon,” he joked. He left Shizuo alone with his tacky hair and opened a Spotify playlist titled “GUY$ NIGHT, GUY$ BEIN DUDE$” chock full of the sickest, nastiest hip-hop and rap songs on his laptop. Shinra clicked it open and let it play on shuffle. The familiar beat of Usher’s “Yeah!” came on blaring in the speakers in the living room. Shizuo hooted, “Aww shit, Shinra.” He’s got his flaws, but he’s got a damn good taste in music.  


Shinra dashed back to Shizuo in the living room, dancing to the rhythm and mimicking the Lil Jon verse, sending them both into stitches. When Shinra caught his breath, he began spraying the peroxide onto Shizuo’s hair, combing it out as he went along, shaking his hips to the beat. Shizuo tapped his fingers along on the armrests as the beats shifted from mellow OutKast to vicious Busta Rhymes and settled down into Drake. The music definitely made the time pass by faster, and before Shizuo realized it Shinra was wetting down the last bit of brown hair and combing it out. Shizuo grooved along to Tyler the Creator’s “She” while Shinra finished up the rest of peroxide bleach.  


“Alrighty Shizuo!” chirped Shinra. “It’ll be about another hour till the bleach really sets in and you can wash it out with cold water,” he called in the middle of tossing him a Wii remote, “so how about we play a couple of rounds of Wii Tennis, eh?” Shinra wiggled his eyebrows. Shizuo’s eyes flickered as he caught the remote, the plastic hard and cold in his hands.  


He smirked, “You’re on.”  


The next hour was filled with frantic screaming such as “Don’t grip it too hard or you’ll break it!”s and vulgar swears featuring blaring hip hop music accompanied with the rancid smell of teenage boys without deodorant on. When Shizuo won the final set, they were both beat. Shinra huffed, “Good game man, now go take a shower and wash off before somebody calls in a complaint for me bringing dogs up here.” Shinra sent him off with a slap on the back towards the bathroom. Neither of them had realized it, but during their game, the bleach was taking its toll on Shizuo’s hair, lightening it by the minute until it shined a golden yellow to bring out the flecks in his eyes. Shinra saw it as he marched into the bathroom, and Shizuo did too when he looked himself in the mirror. He was slick with sweat, but damn, he was thinking Shinra could consider hair dressing for a living.  


The blond made Shizuo’s complexion look a solid two tones darker, and the flecks in his eyes jumped and danced while they took in his new look. The way his hair framed his face brought out his jawline. Hell, he felt like a model. He carded his hand through his hair, red lips parted in a toothy grin when he saw how well the blond had taken, down to the roots. While his arm was up, he got an unfortunately good whiff of his armpits and realized damn, I frickin’ reek. He heard himself laughing, and he guessed Shinra must’ve heard him because he heard Shinra gloating to himself, “Hah, you outdid yourself again, Kishitani.”  


Shizuo wanted to retort, but he figured he’d let Shinra have this one. He definitely deserved it. Shizuo peeled his black jeans and boxers off and hopped into the shower. The cold water send chills down his spine while he lathered the cold water into his scalp. He felt like an idiot for feeling so happy, but who the hell cared? Despite the chilling water pouring on him, Shizuo felt something warm bubbling deep in his gut; something like a flower blooming, one whose beauty only he would know. It rooted in his chest and pumped what felt like pure gold through his veins. It felt like fire in his bones, but it didn’t hurt. It burned down the walls he’d spent so long building to keep himself away from everyone, to block every one out. They collapsed and burned, and he felt brave. He could accept his strength, and love himself too. Let them be scared of me, I don’t give a crap. They don’t need me anyways. The shower water soon extinguished the flames smoldering within and brought him back to reality while he turned the shower off and hopped out of the shower. He grabbed two towels, one to wrap around his waist and another to pat down his hair. He grabbed his pants and boxers before leaving the bathroom.  


He walked out into the living room to see Shinra snoring on the couch wrapped in a smoky black cocoon. Celty was back and had cleaned off all the trash from the coffee table. He looked out the window and saw the night sky peppered with the twinkling lights of Ikebukuro coming to life at night. Celty whipped out her phone to talk to Shizuo:

“It looks good!” she said, motioning to his hair. “Shinra did a good job <3,” she typed excitedly.  


Shizuo scratched the back of his head anxiously. “Thanks. He really did,” was all he could say but his cheeks flushed at the compliment.  


Celty typed back:

“Are you spending the night?”  


Huh. Shizuo didn’t come with that in mind but eh, he didn’t have any plans. He shrugged, “Might as well.”  


“You know where Shinra’s room is. I’ll hold up the fort,” replied Celty. She stuck out her fist, knuckles bared. Shizuo met her halfway in a fistbump.  


“G’night,” he waved off as he trudged drowsily to Shinra’s room. As his face met the chilly pillow cover and comforter of the bed, he fell into a dreamless sleep with one last thought on his mind:  


My year, my school, new me.

**Author's Note:**

> this was a pain in the ass to code. my url is helwajima.tumblr.com should you decide to praise me or disgrace me for writing this. thank you for reading


End file.
